


The boy saw a Comet

by Shanny



Series: Que sont-ils devenus, ces enfants qu'on a déçus ? [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blaise is deppressed, F/F, It sounds sad but it's not, Like the first half is sad but there's hope, Luna Lovegood is a Good Friend, M/M, Mentions of suicidal thougts, Ron wants to help, There's a riot a some point, mentions of depression, mentions of hospital, mentions of stab wounds, slow burn i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24662821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shanny/pseuds/Shanny
Summary: Blaise came to this new town to let his old life behind. He's here to focus on school and be a good son. It's easier said than done, especially when he crosses paths with one Ron Weasley, hometown thug and mysterious boy.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy (minor), Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley (minor), Ron Weasley/Blaise Zabini
Series: Que sont-ils devenus, ces enfants qu'on a déçus ? [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680316
Comments: 1
Kudos: 47





	The boy saw a Comet

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, I'm back with a new one! This time it's Blaise/Ron but there's still Drarry, if you squint. It takes part in the same universe as before, I'm just introducing new people. I also goes into darker subjects so please be careful while reading. I really hope you like it !
> 
> Special mention to my brother who was once again my beta.

Blaise knows he has a type. His type happens to be the worst one. He knows bad boys make him weak in the knees, he knows they could ask him almost everything and he would do it. He’s not stupid, he’s actually pretty smart, but for a pretty boy, he’d do anything. It’s not his fault all the pretty boys have shitty reputations. 

But it is his fault when he decides to get involved with them, even when he knows who they are. So, he’s had to change. 

It had never occurred to him that he’d need to do it, he was pretty happy with his life as it was, but getting stabbed had the effect of a cold shower. An icy one, even.

So, here he is, in a new town, a new school, very far away from his former life. His mother decided, the further the better. It doesn’t matter he can’t come home on the weekend, it doesn’t matter he probably won’t make it home for Christmas either. His mother is like that. 

And he decided, he’s not going to get involved with bad guys anymore. He likes to think it was his decision as much as it was his mom’s, even if it’s not really true. She didn’t really give him a choice. 

“You pack your bags. Either to go to that school, either to live elsewhere, but I won’t have a thug living under my roof, Blaise. Am I making myself clear?” she said to him, her eyes cold like never before. 

Blaise didn’t want to lose her, even if they didn’t always get along, even if he couldn’t stand her sometimes. So he decided to attend that school, and here he is. Living the worst year of his life. 

Sure, many things have changed for the better. He’s not in the streets anymore, he doesn’t fear being caught for doing something illegal and there are very few risks he’ll be involved in another knife fight, which is what he wants to avoid the most. Yet going to school is so fucking hard. 

He wasted a whole year away, when he decided he’d rather not go to university and just follow his boyfriend at the time, and he thought he’d never go back. But here he is, attending classes everyday, then studying in his shitty apartment, and turning in papers, and writing, and reading and just working, working, working. It’s exhausting. 

And he can’t even really work in his apartment, it’s a student building, and everybody is always so fucking loud, he can’t concentrate. So he has to go to the school library just to study in peace. 

But he’s keeping a low profile, he’s not making friends just in case they’re part of a secret gang, he’s not going out at night, he’s being really good. His mom would be proud, if she cared enough. She cares he’s alive and not bringing shame to her name. For the rest, she really doesn’t care. 

Today, he regrets everything. It’s a really shitty day, he has a mountain of work, it’s raining and he’s tired. But he can’t sleep, because he has a book to read for Monday, and he has a paper to write for Monday, and he has an exam on Monday. Really, all the professors decided they would give them something to do for Monday, just in case they’d use the weekend to sleep. Sleep is overrated anyway. 

So, shitty day. Shitty weekend too, if he’s reading to the signs correctly.

He leaves the building, already cursing because he didn’t take his umbrella. It sure is very useful in his apartment while he is here, under the fucking rain. 

He almost bumps into a guy, who seems to be talking to another one, and he stops. He shouldn't, what others are doing is none of his business. Even if they seem to be arguing, it’s not his concern. He doesn’t even know those guys. But God knows why, he stops to listen. 

“You have nothing to do around here, I already told you! I’m going to call campus security if you don’t leave now!” the guy Blaise almost bumped into is telling the other, who Blaise thinks he recognises. He saw him a few times around campus, with other people. 

He remembers, because they seem to be the kind of people he wants to avoid. The kind who stays out at night, the kind who looks for trouble wherever they go. He should really leave. He doesn’t know these people, he has nothing to do with anything. 

“Oh yeah, why don’t you do just that, big boy? I’m trembling. Go ahead, call campus security, and I’ll teach you a lesson while we’re waiting for them!” the thug says, and Blaise rolls his eyes, he can’t help it. “Do you have something to say, too?! I’m taking the complaints of the good citizen here.” he adds meanly, and Blaises realises too late he’s talking to him now. And he’s waving a baseball bat in his direction. The other guy silently makes his exit. 

“You don’t…” he starts saying, but he doesn’t finish his sentence. 

“I don’t what? Belong here? Have anything to do in a nice place like this? Because you all know everything don’t you, you the elite, you who are better than us?” He’s fuming now, walking toward him, and Blaise freezes. 

This is all so stupid. He didn’t do anything wrong, he was just walking by. Well, not really, he did stop to listen, even if it was none of his business, but damn he didn’t even say anything to the guy. He wants to yell too, say it’s easy judging just by the looks, but he knows he would be a hypocrite. As if people aren’t judging this guy just by his looks. He wants to say he’s one of them, he knows what this feels like, but he doesn’t. Because he is not one of them, he hasn’t been for some time now. And he doesn’t want to be like them, not anymore. So he just stays where he is. Maybe the guy will beat him down with his bat. Maybe he’ll leave Blaise for dead. It wouldn’t be the first time it’d happen to him, he thinks bitterly. 

“Harry, stop that!” someone yells suddenly, and the guy does stop dead in his tracks. “You can’t go around beating people up just because you think they looked at you funny!” 

The guy, Harry, looks at Blaise one last time, before going with the people who seem to be with him. Blaise didn’t see them earlier, but the whole gang seems to be here now. They’re all standing in the rain, watching Harry make his way to them, and when he reaches them, he puts his arm around another guy, and kisses him on the cheek. 

Blaise remembers he’s noticed them before. They’re always around at this hour, just hanging out on campus. They don’t even seem to  _ go  _ to any classes, they’re just here. 

“Why do you always assume it’s my fault? I didn’t do anything, and those guys started yelling at me.” Harry says, defensively. Everyone laughs.

“Yeah yeah. We know, you never do anything wrong, everyone is against you, my poor child,” a girl says mockingly. Harry flips her off, but another guy pats his shoulder. It’s the guy who stopped him from hitting Blaise. Blaise looks at him, and he groans. Why must he look so nice? Couldn’t he be ugly? That would be a nice change.

But he’s not ugly, he looks calm, and nice, and he’s beautiful. Blaise wants to hit his head on the wall. 

“You really can’t fight with everyone who is riling you up, Harry. You know they’re doing it on purpose. Hermione will be really upset if we can’t come keep her company because we’re banned from the campus.” 

“I know. I’m sorry, Ron.” Harry says, and he shoots a dark look at Blaise, which makes the other guy, Ron, look at him too. Blaise is happy he’s drenched because of the rain, otherwise he would have blushed like a schoolgirl. 

The guy really is handsome. Just how Blaise likes them, tough and everything. Fuck. 

They start to go away, and Ron stays back, trying to light a cigarette even if it’s raining. Brilliant, he also has terrible habits. Blaise watches him, and he decides to do the stupidest thing he’s done since he arrived here. 

He goes up to the guy and talks to him. 

“I didn’t say anything to your buddy. I just happened to be here, but I didn’t say anything,” he says. Why can’t he just keep his fucking mouth shut? As if he hadn’t decided to stop getting involved with bad guys, as if he hadn’t promised his mom he would never hang out with people like this ever again. 

But he can’t help it, he doesn’t want this guy to think Blaise is the kind of guy who goes around and start fights with people he doesn’t know. He shouldn’t care what this guy thinks of him, he doesn’t know him. But it’s making his insides roll, that Ron could think Blaise is like the people from this school, that Blaise also thinks they have nothing to do here. 

“What?” Ron says finally, looking at Blaise like he has three heads, unlit cigarette still between his lips. 

“I didn’t say anything to your friend, I was just walking out of the building. I don’t agree with what the other guy said,” he says, looking self assured. He’s not, inside he’s shaking and cursing himself, but he knows how to make himself look cool and detached. 

“And you’re telling me that because?” Blaise wants to punch him. He’s not going to, but he really wants to. Why can’t this guy just say “okay”, accept Blaise’s semi-apology and go on with his life? Blaise doesn’t want to elaborate, he doesn’t want to keep talking with this guy.

“Because I don’t want trouble. That’s it,” he replies and Ron eyes him for a moment, like he doesn’t believe him. Blaise is not a very good liar. He can hide what he’s feeling pretty well, but he can’t lie very well. But there’s no way this guy knows Blaise is lying, he doesn’t know him. 

“Okay.” he finally says. He starts walking toward his friends, but he looks back to Blaise one more time. “Well be careful, then. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt, right?” He winks at him, smiles, and then goes without looking back at him, leaving Blaise alone, under the rain, shaking. 

What the fuck? 

Blaise feels like an idiot. It’s been three days since he saw Ron, and he can’t stop thinking about him. Which is ridiculous because Blaise doesn’t know him, he talked to him for like five seconds, and the guy is a thug. Well he looks like one, at least. 

He blames Harry. The guy came up to him yesterday, Blaise assuming he wanted to do what he didn’t get the chance to the other day, but he was wrong. He came to apologise to Blaise. He said that it was wrong of him to assume Blaise said anything, that he shouldn’t have jumped to any conclusion, that he hoped Blaise could forgive him. Blaise said they were all good, that it wasn’t a big deal. What else could he have said? It was nice enough of Harry to come and apologise. He didn’t have to. 

But he blames him, because since that very nice apology, Blaise can’t get Ron out of his head. He must have said something to Harry, otherwise why would the guy have apologised? They don’t know each other, and he doesn’t see why Harry would care about what Blaise thinks of him. 

And it’s stupid because why would Ron say anything about Blaise, to anyone? They really didn't talk for more than a minute. Blaise can tell he’s starting to obsess over it, and he can’t afford it. He can’t let himself go down that road. Especially not while he’s in the middle of an important exam. 

He has to concentrate on it. He can’t let some unknown guy invade all his thoughts. He precisely went away to avoid going through that again. He looks out of the window, just a second to get his focus back when he sees him. 

Ron is here, just under the window. What the fuck? Blaise looks at his paper again. This is all so stupid. He’s stronger than a weird fascination. He has control over himself, he grew out of his self destructive behaviors. He reads what he wrote on his paper, determined. He’s going to pass this exam with flying colors, and forget all about this boy. There’s not much to forget anyway, he doesn’t know him. 

His resolution lasts at least five full minutes. He’s being ridiculous. He looks out of the window again, and yeah, he’s still here. Fuck it. Blaise stands up, and his professor looks at him. 

“Already done, mister Zabini? If you leave now, you can’t come back after.” he says to him, and Blaise is going to sit back. He really is, that’s the smartest thing to do. He’s not even halfway, he hasn’t written anything interesting yet. He can’t possibly turn in this garbage. 

“Yes, I’m done.” he says instead. Why can’t he just do what he’s supposed to? He hands his paper to the professor. “Have a good day, sir.” And he goes out of the door. 

He kind of hopes he’s going to fall down the stairs and die. That’s what he deserves anyway. He goes down the stairs, and he makes his way out of the building. He just wants to talk to him and ask why Harry apologised. That’s it, he just wants to understand. After that, he’s never going to speak to him again, he won’t even think about him. 

He looks around and he wants to scream. Ron is not here anymore. He puts his hands on his eyes. How can he be so stupid? He’s supposed to do better, to know better. He’s supposed to be focused on school, he’s supposed to make his mother proud. 

Instead he’s just messing up. He’s acting crazy. Like he used to, like he promised he wouldn’t do again. Just because someone smiled at him. 

Blaise goes home, furious at himself. He needs to get a grip on himself. He can’t act like that, he can’t give it all away for a guy he doesn’t know. For a guy who doesn’t even care about him. He’s imagining things, maybe Harry just realised Blaise didn’t do anything wrong. 

He just has to stop. 

His life is starting slowly to go to hell again. Just not in the same way as before. Blaise is amazed at himself, constantly finding new ways to make himself miserable should be recognised as a talent. He sure is good at it. 

It’s been a week since he last saw Ron, and he can’t sleep. He can’t sleep, he can’t concentrate, he can’t do anything useful. 

He’s supposed to be better, to know better. He’s supposed to be a good student, a good son. Instead he’s obsessing over a guy. He’s not eating, he’s not writing his papers, he’s not doing the reading for his assignments. He’s just barely existing, going to class, coming back home. 

When he calls his mother, he says he’s doing fine, he has good grades, he’s well liked. She believes him. She asks if he’s eating, he says yes. She asks if he likes his apartment, he says yes. 

He doesn’t say he doesn’t know what he’s doing here. He doesn’t say he misses her. He doesn’t say he’s miserable. She doesn’t want to hear it, he doesn’t want to say it. Maybe he’s just being dramatic. When has he ever missed his mom? 

He goes to the little shop down the road to buy some stuff. He needs coffee. He’s drinking colossal amount of it, to help him stay awake, to beat the sadness away. He feels hollow, he doesn’t know why. He puts some instant noodles in his basket too, because he  _ is _ eating. Instant noodles and chips. It goes down well with coffee. 

He’s barely awake now. He can’t help but think he went here to have a better life, and he doesn’t. His life is not better, he’s not even happy. At least, before, he was. Not for long, he remembers it all went to shit pretty quickly, he remembers he ended up in a hospital bed. But at least he had something that made him want to get up everyday. School was supposed to be like that. It was supposed to be his new goal, it was supposed to help him be better. It’s not. 

But he thinks that maybe he is the problem. He got a second chance, given to him on a golden plate, and he’s still not satisfied. Maybe his mother spoiled him way too much and now he just can’t be satisfied. 

He goes to the cashier and put his things out of his basket. It’s pathetic, coffee and instant noodles. His mom would be horrified, knowing she’s giving him money to eat shit like that. 

But she’s not here. She sent him away. 

He pays for his things, and he’s putting them in a bag when he sees him. Ron is passing by, walking in the streets. Blaise looks at him, frozen. Why must he see him everywhere? Why now, when he never saw him before? He pushes all his things in the bag and rushes out of the shop, but of course, Ron disappeared. Blaise starts to think he imagined him. Maybe he’s really going crazy. 

He sighs and goes home. What would he have said to him anyway? He probably doesn’t remember Blaise. He’ll just look insane. 

He doesn’t know why he stays fixed on Ron. It’s not like him. He used to obsess over his boyfriends, but the feeling was mutual. He’s never gone crazy for someone who didn’t care about him. He doesn’t understand why he’s acting like this. 

Maybe he actually misses his old life. 

Blaise doesn’t know what he’s doing here. It sounded like a good idea at first, but now it’s a disaster. When a guy from his class asked if Blaise wanted to go to the pub with a bunch of them, he said yes. He was tired of feeling sorry for himself, so he said yes. 

Now he feels sorry for himself, but outside. It’s stupid, he’s got nothing to do here. They are all laughing and shouting and he just wants to curl up in his bed and forget about everything. And he can only be mad at himself for being here. He doesn’t know these people, and they don’t know him.

They couldn’t know he’d be a fucking bore, they couldn’t know he wouldn’t make any effort to stay in their conversations. He doesn’t even know their names, and he’s pretty sure half of them don’t know his. It’s not important. He’s not even drinking, because alcohol makes him feel weird, in a bad way. He doesn’t like feeling fuzzy inside, like he doesn’t know where he is. 

When he said he’d only drink a coke, they all shot him a weird look. As if they need to be pissed to have fun. Looking at them now, shouting and being ridiculously loud, he supposes they do. 

Blaise is sitting in a corner, trying not to pay attention to them. What a sight he must be, all alone, bitter and sad. He puts his chin in his hand, and watches outside. The street is empty, but it’s better than watching inside. He thinks they’re playing a game, but he can’t be bothered to be interested in it. They must think he’s a fucking snob, thinking he’s better than them, but it’s not that. He doesn’t think he’s better than them, he just feels like he doesn’t belong. What’s the point in pretending he does? 

There’s a commotion behind him, so he turns to watch. His companions are making rude gestures to someone who seems to be outside. Blaise rolls his eyes, but still looks at who it is. His heart stutters in his chest. Of course it’s him. 

He’d try not to think about him. He was not very successful but at least he can say he tried. Ron is walking down the street, with some of his friends, and even though some of them look inside the pub, Ron doesn’t. They pass by and Blaise averts his eyes, looking back to his table. He hasn’t seen Ron in a week, and he persuaded himself it was fine. Everything was back in order. 

Before he can let his thoughts go spiraling again, someone comes to him. It’s the guy who invited him, Todd he believes, but he’s not very sure. The guy puts his elbows on Blaise’s table.

“I can’t believe the nerves of those people,” he slurs, and Blaise wants to ask how many beers he drank.

“What are you talking about?” he says instead. He’s not very interested, but he’s polite. 

“Those gang people, coming here!” Todd replies, making big gestures with his hands, and Blaise shrugs.

“They’re just walking.” Outside, he wants to add, but Todd looks at him with a vicious expression and Blaise doesn’t know what to do about it. 

He doesn’t know this guy, but he doesn’t like him very much. It appears as if Todd is thinking the same thing about Blaise, because he strengthens himself, and waves to the others to come closer. They do, looking curious, and Blaise curses himself. 

“Do you know what our little friend here said?” He’s shouting now, and Blaise stands up. He won’t let himself be bullied, not by this guy, and not by anyone, and certainly not because he doesn’t share their stupid opinions. 

“I didn’t say anything, and I suggest you relax,” he says, as calmly as he can. He may not know who he is anymore, but he sure as hell won’t let someone belittle him. 

“Wow, why don’t  _ you  _ calm down,” a guy exclaims, starting to put his hand on Blaise’s shoulder, but before he can do that, Blaise pushes him. 

“Don’t touch me,” he growls, and he feels his face grow hot, his hands trembling. He doesn’t want to cause a scene. He shouldn’t have said anything, but now it’s too late. 

“Hey, what the fuck dude?” Todd yells, coming closer to him, but Blaise doesn’t let him. He escapes the corner he was in, pushing some people. He hates it. He hates being in this situation, he hates being alone with these people he doesn’t know, he hates feeling ambushed even if he knows they don’t mean any harm. Probably. He can’t be sure, but it’s not like they would jump him, or  _ stab _ him. 

He’s feeling stupid, but it’s not rational. Fear and anger are pumping in his veins, and he doesn’t know how to calm down. Instead he leaves the pub, ashamed and angry at himself. 

“He’s fucking crazy,” he hears someone say as he’s going outside. They’re right. He’s acting crazy. What the fuck is happening to him? 

Blaise walks in the street, in the dark, feeling lost and scared. It’s stupid, how he reacted at the pub. He knows it. But he couldn’t think back there, he just felt terrified, cornered. He sits down in a dark alley and he pushes his face in his hands. He can’t breathe, and he puts a hand on his torso, just where the stab scar is. 

He tries his best not to think about it, usually, but tonight it’s all coming back in his face and he feels overwhelmed. He never talks about how it makes him feel, to anyone. His mother never asked, and Blaise thought it suited him just fine. He didn’t want to talk about it, he just wanted to forget. Except, he apparently can’t. 

So instead, he stays here, looking at the stars, and thinking about things he hasn’t let himself think about in a year. He thinks about the fight he got into without meaning to, about the guy who stabbed him, about his stay in the hospital. 

He’ll never know if the guy did it on purpose or not, but it doesn’t matter. Blaise can’t shake the feeling that he deserved it anyway. He told his mom it was an accident, but he’s not sure it was. He was with those people, he started fights for no apparent reason, he spread chaos in his path, he thought he was better than everyone else because his boyfriend was a dangerous guy. 

But he wasn’t better than anyone, and his boyfriend hadn’t come see him in the hospital, not even once. His supposed friends hadn’t come either. Nobody came for him. He still doesn’t know how he ended up in the hospital, because the last thing he remembers is the awful pain in his chest, and then nothing. 

He could have died that night. His mother made sure to tell him as often as she could. Blaise has brushed it off for so long, but he realises now. Yes, he could have died that night. And sitting here, in the dark, alone and scared, Blaise can’t help but think maybe he should have. 

He remembers what his mom said to him, when he was lying in the hospital bed, tired and in pain. 

“You have to choose whether you want to live or not, Blaise,” she’d told him, voice cold but eyes shining with tears. “Because, clearly, you’re not sure.” 

He’d say to her it was a stupid thing to say, it was an accident. But she’d known. 

She had known what Blaise had refused to see for so long. 

He was not suicidal then, and he’s not now. He doesn’t want to die. He just wants to find reasons to live. He wants his life to be more valuable, he wants it to matter enough.  _ He  _ wants to matter. 

And he sees now, that his stupid life choices can give the impression that he doesn’t want to live. He sees now it may not be as stupid as it sounds. Not wanting to jump in front of a truck doesn’t mean he’d mind if he got hit by one. Not wanting to die doesn’t mean he actually wants to live. 

Blaise wants to cry at his epiphanie, but he doesn’t. He wants to call his mom, but he doesn’t either. She wouldn’t say the things he wants to hear. Blaise had always wanted to be more, to mean more. He wanted his mother to love him more, his friends to like him more, his lovers to care more. He always felt like life wasn’t giving him enough, like it wasn’t giving him what he deserved. People always said to him he was being a spoiled brat, that he’d never have enough anyway. But it wasn’t true then, and it’s still not now. 

He just never knew life gave to him just what he’d accept. 

Blaise stays where he is for a long time, not knowing what to do. He stays here, looking at the night sky, wondering how he got here. He stays here, more calm and lucid than he has been in a long time, and he sees exactly how he got here. 

He let himself get lost, he let himself become desperate and sad. He wasn’t like this, he was never like this. He realises it lost its appeal at some point. His old life, his new one, there was just no appeal. He let himself get caught in this free fall, because at some point he convinced himself it was what he deserved. 

He stays a bit more, and then he gets up. He can’t stay here, in this dark alley and he can’t stay here, in this void he let himself get into. He has to work to make it better. He walks back to his building, still in the dark and still feeling lost, but he feels lighter than he had in a long time. 

He passes a little shop on his way back, and he sees Ron and Harry outside of it, waiting. He wants to roll his eyes, because  _ of course _ even in a moment like this, he has to cross path with them. 

He watches them from afar, still walking, and at some point they look at him too. It’s dark, they haven’t seen him in a long time, and they don’t know him. Blaise thinks they don’t even remember they ever saw him. But when they make eye contact, to his surprise, Ron smiles at him, and Harry waves. Like they know him. 

And seeing them, seeing that boy he doesn’t know anything about, smiling at him, acknowledging his presence, remembering him, Blaise realises. 

He wants to live. God he wants to live so much. He doesn’t know how he could even think he’d ever wanted to die. He wants to live, not for his mother, not for this boy, but for himself. He wants to live, because life has so much more to offer to him, if he can just make the extra effort to take it. 

So he smiles and waves back, and he goes back to his apartment. Because he deserves everything good life will send his way. 

Because everything was put to perspective, Blaise decides to actually work to have his year. He still has time, but he’s late in all of his classes and he has no idea what amount of work he’ll have to produce if he wants to make it. So he starts to catch up on the things he missed and he’s surprised to see he likes what he’s learning. 

It’s easier to stay focused when he actually understand what his books are about and he enjoys working on his papers a lot more. It’s still difficult to concentrate in his apartment because of all the noise, so he’s mostly at that little cafe he likes, next to campus. The waiters are very nice to him, and they let him stay all day even if he doesn’t ask for more than a coffee. Luna is his favorite, she gives him free pastries when she’s alone for the afternoon shift. Sometimes she even sits with him and just watches him read. It’s nice to have someone to talk to, to share some time with. 

Today he is at the cafe again, working on his most important paper. He’s alone with Luna again, but she’s busy behind the counter and Blaise doesn’t really pay attention to her. It’s a fascinating subject, he really wants to get it right. Not just for the grade, he wants to show how important what he learned is. 

His table is so messy, all his papers spread on it, and he’s tapping furiously at his laptop. He has a book in his lap to and he looks at it regularly, making sure he has all his facts straight. He barely hears the little bell when the door opens, but he doesn’t look up like he does sometimes. 

He has to stay focused, maybe he’ll manage to finish most of it before Luna closes. He’ll invite her to eat with him if he can do it. 

Blaise looks at his book, checking something, when he feels someone get close to him. He thinks it’s Luna, because who else would come to talk to him, so he keeps his eyes on his book. She knows to wait when he’s reading, just staying beside him until he looks up. 

The person clears their throat and Blaise lifts his eyes to them. It’s definitely not Luna. He freezes. 

Ron is standing in front of his table, two cups in his hands, looking sheepish. 

“Hi,” he says, smiling down to Blaise, who can only stare at him. He hasn’t seen him again since that fateful night and it was fine. They stay looking at each other for some time, and Blaise wants to ask what Ron’s doing here. He just can’t make his mouth move. “Hm I bought you this,” Ron starts to put a cup on Blaise’s table, but stops when he realises there’s no room. 

Blaise pushes some papers aside, still staring at Ron. Ron finally puts down the cup, still smiling and Blaise comes back to his senses.

“Well thank you, but why?” he says, trying to look cool, even if he knows he doesn’t look cool at all. Ron shrugs and blushes a little. Blaise can’t help but think that he’s really pretty. 

“I saw you work here, you barely even move some days. And I know uni’s really hard, I have friends who attend too, it’s really brave what you’re doing,” he starts, putting his hand on the back of his neck. “Anyway, I wanted to make you smile, give you some courage. I asked Luna what your favourite was,” he says, and now his face is red as a tomato. 

Blaise stays silent, feeling stupid. This cool guy saw him work on his papers all day and thought he was brave. He doesn’t know what to say to that really. He’s spent weeks thinking about this guy, fantasising about his imaginary life, only to impress him by doing his school work. His silence lasts too long because Ron’s smile falters a little. 

“I’m sorry if you think it’s weird,” he adds, his voice shy and Blaise wants to smack himself on the head. 

“No! Not at all!” he almost shouts, and his book slips on the floor. He’s the one blushing now, but he hopes Ron won’t see it. “It’s very nice of you!” Ron’s smile comes back, bright and happy.

“I hope it makes your day better,” he looks at Blaise for some time, and then he shrugs. “I’ll leave you to it then. See you around.” And before Blaise can say anything else, Ron’s out of the door. What a strange day. 

It’s been almost a week since Blaise saw Ron, and he still doesn’t understand what happened that day. He asked Luna if she knew him, and she giggled, saying that she was dating his sister. She told him Ron stayed looking at Blaise often, pretending he was choosing what coffee he would drink that day. Blaise had a hard time believing her, but there was no reason for Luna to lie. 

She also said it was stupid of Ron to think she wouldn’t notice, because he doesn’t drink coffee, and she only serves one kind of hot chocolate. Blaise and her went to eat together that night and Blaise had to admit he missed spending time with other people. Not stupid people like the ones he went to the pub with, but nice people like Luna, who listened to him and enjoyed his company. 

Since that day, Blaise always carries with him a thermos of hot chocolate in his bag. Ron did something nice for him and Blaise wants to do something for him in return. Luna smiled at him when he said what he wanted to do, he wanted to ask why she was smiling like that, but he decided to stay silent. She probably wouldn't have replied. 

So, he has this thermos with him every time he’s out, but he hasn’t seen Ron yet. He’s not bothered by it, he decided not to stress about it. He’ll probably see him soon enough, and until then he just wanders around in the city. Blaise always liked walking around, in the streets, wasting his time discovering cities and neighbourhood. Before he got involved in gang activities that’s what he did. Just walking. 

So he does it again, and he’s happy to see he still likes it. 

When he does see Ron again, it’s a surprise. He’s not looking for him, he’s not exploring, he’s just walking back home after a class. He still has the thermos in his bag, just in case. 

Blaise doesn’t hesitate, because if he thinks about it for too long, he probably won’t do it. And he wants to do it, he just has to be brave enough. He walks straight to him, ignoring the looks from the people Ron’s with, but still smiling briefly at Harry. 

Each time’s seen him, Harry has smiled at him, or waved. Even if Ron isn’t with him. 

Blaise didn’t think about what he’d say to Ron, and stays silent for a second, before shaking himself. He’s Blaise Zabini for fuck’s sake! 

He opens his bag and pushes the thermos in Ron’s hands, who’s looking at him curiously. 

“It’s for you. It’s hot chocolate,” Blaise says, and Ron lifts an eyebrow, still looking at him. “You’re always outside, and you never wear a jacket, and it’s fucking freezing,” he tries to explain, even if they both know what it’s really about. 

“Well thank you,” Ron smiles, eyes shining, and Blaise wants to kiss him. He barely refrains himself. “I’ll make sure to return the thermos as soon as possible.” 

“You better. It’s very useful,” Blaise says seriously, and Ron snorts. He wants to stay here, but he’s out of courage for the night, so he starts to walk away. “See you around,” he adds over his shoulder, and Ron is watching him, clutching the thermos in his hands. 

Blaise hears Ron’s friends whisper, he hears them making fun of Ron, he hears their laughter, but his steps don’t falter. He’s happy he did it, and he feels very warm inside, like he hasn’t in a long time.

Blaise hears the shouts before he sees the crowd. He plans to avoid whatever this is about, he has no interest in knowing why there’s so many people together, but he has to come close anyway to leave campus. He’s still looking from the corner of his eye, but he can’t see for sure what’s happening. 

He’s almost in the street when he sees him. It’s Harry’s boyfriend, he’s almost sure of it. He has bright hair, it’s blue these days. Curiosity getting the better of him, Blaise comes closer from the crowd. He thinks about asking someone what’s happening, but he thinks they probably won’t reply to him. 

Since the night at the pub, most people are looking at him with the same despise they look at Ron and his friends with. It doesn’t bother him, he just thinks it’s stupid. They’re not in high school anymore. Haven’t been for some time now. 

He pushes past people, and he hears them talking.

“It’s insufferable, they’re always starting fights, those fucking thugs!” a girl says, and her friend nods furiously. 

“Yeah! And they have no right to be here, I don’t even know why they’re here every day, they’re too stupid to go to uni!” Blaise wants to sneer at them but he just rolls his eyes. How many time had he heard words like that. 

He finally manages to get in front of the circle and he stops dead in his track. He was right, it’s Harry’s boyfriend he saw. He’s being held by some of his friends, but he’s trying to free himself. Blaise noticies a bruise is starting to form under one of his eyes. Harry’s fighting with a guy, his fists are bloody and his lip is split. The guy in front of him looks way worse though. 

“That’s all you got, little thug? You’re not as though as they say you are,” the guy is yelling, spitting blood. “Your faggot boyfriend can’t even defend himself?” 

“Shut the fuck up!” shouts Harry, fury in his eyes. If Blaise thought he looked scary the first time he saw him, it was nothing comparing to how he looks now. “Shut up right now!”

The guy turns to look at Draco.

“How does it feel to be disowned by your father, just to be fucked by a charity case?” he says, and everything happens very fast.

Draco looks back at him, eyes dark, but everyone looks at Harry now. He picked up his bat who was on the ground, and he’s fucking furious. He’s glowering from rage and Blaise is actually scared things are gonna get out of hands too fast.

He wonders how people can just stand and watch, complain and criticize Harry and his friends, but actually do nothing to ease the tension. It’s not hard for Blaise to imagine how it started, and he’s pretty confident to assume that it wasn’t Harry’s fault. 

“I’m gonna make you regret it, bastard,” Harry growls, and Blaise thinks he’ll have to go over there and do something. He doubts Harry would listen to him, but he can’t let him do it. He can’t stay here and do nothing. 

It’s not his smartest idea, if even Harry’s friends don’t do anything, they must have a reason, but he can’t think of anything else. If Harry beats this guy with his bat, it’ll be Harry’s fault. It won’t matter who started it. If he touches him, it’s over. He’ll be doomed. 

So, Blaise starts to walk over to Harry when he hears him. He snaps his head in his direction, and he’s embarrassed he was right. It’s Ron’s voice he heard. 

He’s pushing through the crowd, and he’s pissed. He’s so angry his face is flushed red. Blaise watches him march over in all his glory. He takes Harry’s arm in his hand, just as Harry’s lifting his bat.

Harry looks at him, and for a second it seems as if he doesn’t recognise his friend. When he does, he stills in his movements. Blaise doesn’t hear what they say to each other, they speak in hushed voices, but he feels relieved when Harry puts the bat down. 

“Oh yeah, your master has come, good little doggie sits down for its master!” the guy says, his mouth bloody, and Blaise rolls his eyes. Some people just don’t know when to stop. 

Ron turns to him, furry burning in his eyes. 

“I suggest you shut the fuck up, little shit!” he spits, disgust in his voice, and the guy has the audacity to look shocked. 

“Excuse me, who do you think you are, talking to me like that? He’s the one who jumped me, for no reason, even if he has no right to be here!” 

Blaise watches as Ron comes to the guy, and grabs his shirt, knuckles white.

“You think I don’t know what happend? You think I don’t know who you are?” He puts his face closer, almost breathing down the guy’s neck. “I know you’re the one riling him up, making him lose his cool on purpose. You think you’re so smart, you’re so much better than us, yeah? I’ll tell you what. There better be no next time, I’ll better never have to stop something like that again, you hear me? Because if there is, I’ll fucking smash your ugly head with this bat myself, you fucking cunt.”

He pushes the guy to the ground, and takes Harry by the elbow. Harry looks miserable, like he’s about to cry but at the same time he looks ready to smash some heads too. Blaise actually feels sorry for him. He knows that feeling too well, like the world is against you but you don’t know if you deserve it or not. He knows how it feels like you’re going to be crushed. 

Everybody is talking now, whispering, judging. Draco finally brushes off his friends and he runs to Harry. They hug each other hard, and Blaise thinks one of them is crying. He doesn’t know which one. Someone from their group comes to Ron - Blaise thinks she actually attends uni - she touches his arm.

“I think someone called campus security, Ron. You have to get out of here,” she says, alarmed. Blaise feels anger come up. Who called campus security? They sure didn’t bother to when Draco got hit. 

Ron nods, and he’s whispering something to Harry and Draco, and they move, still clinging to each other. They start to walk away, and Blaise goes after them. He’s not thinking, he’s just worried now. 

“Hey, Ron!” he calls, and Ron looks back eyebrows furrowed. When he recognises Blaise, he smiles. It’s not bright like it is usually, but it’s something. “Will they be okay?” he asks when he’s closer. Something lights up in Ron’s eyes.

“Yeah, I think they’ll be. Thank you for asking.” Blaise shrugs, blushing. It’s stupid, but he’s grown quite fond of Harry, and Draco, and Luna. And Ron. Especially of Ron, even if they don’t talk that much. Ron stays looking at him a bit more, but then he has to go. He brushes Blaise’s cheek. “See you around, yeah?” he says and Blaise just nods. 

He sure hopes so. 

Blaise doesn’t know how he got here, but he wants out. He was just walking around, as usual, but now he’s caught up in what seems to be a riot or something. It’s dark, there are people yelling around him, and there are fires, smoke filling his lungs. He’s panicking, he feels like he can’t breathe. 

He knows how riots work, but he’s never liked it. He always did his best not to get involved in them, back then. It makes him feel defenseless and he hates it. 

He can’t see anything, people brushing past him, and he feels so scared. Fear is rising in his throat, his hands shaking. He needs to find his way out, but he doesn’t remember which way he came from. He thinks he’ll just hide somewhere and wait for it to end, but he knows it’s not a good idea. 

He’s grabbed by someone, and he sees through the smoke it’s a cop. 

“Alright, come with me without making a fuss!” the cop yells at him. Blaise tries to free himself from his grip.

“No, I didn’t do anything!” he says, but it’s not loud enough. Even if it was, the cop probably wouldn't listen. They all look the same to him, Blaise supposes.

He’s really terrified now. He doesn’t want to go to the police station. What would his mother say? She’ll fucking kill him, it won’t matter he was here by accident. The cop starts to shake him, dragging him against his will. Blaise may be scared, but he won’t go quietly if he’s innocent. Actually innocent, for once. 

He tries to make the cop let go of him, but he doesn’t. 

“You’re just making this worse for you!” Blaise wants to argue, actually start to fight back when someone knocks into the cop, making him lose his balance. He releases Blaise then, and the guy grabs Blaise’s hand. He can’t see who it is, he has a hood and a bandana over his face. 

Blaise goes to free his hand, when the guy lowers his bandana a bit. It’s Ron. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he yells and Blaise shakes his head.

“I … I don’t know … I got lost,” he replies, shouting over the noises, and Ron rolls his eyes. As if it’s Blaise’s fault.

“Okay, I’ll get you out of here. Do you trust me?” he asks and Blaise just nods. This might me his stupidest decision yet, but he actually trusts Ron. For whatever reason. 

Ron pushes his bandana up on his face, laces his fingers with Blaise’s, and starts to run. 

They run for awhile, and Blaise’s lungs are on fire. Ron often looks back to him, to make sure he’s okay, and Blaise does his best to smile at him. It’s not easy, he doesn’t feel like smiling. What the fuck is it all about? Blaise is not stupid enough to not notice Ron must be involved in whatever he got caught in. Not just anyone walks around in riots while hiding their faces. But he doesn’t want to dwell on it for too long, because Ron is helping him get away. He wants to believe there is a real explanation behind all of it. 

They reach a calm street at some point, and Blaise thinks Ron is going to leave him here. He’s safe now, he knows how to go back to his building. He’s surprised when Ron asks him where he lives. 

They’re walking now, out of breath and Ron pushes his hood back and puts his bandana around his neck. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, brushing his thumb against Blaise’s hand, and Blaise realises they’re still holding hands. He’s not going to say anything, just in case Ron takes his hand back. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. You?” 

“Yeah yeah, don’t worry,” Ron shrugs, and they walk in silence. Blaise wants to ask so many questions, but he doesn’t. He believes it’s not the best moment. 

They reach his building, and Ron insists to go up to Blaise’s apartment with him. Once in front of his door, they stay lingering, not really knowing what to do, or what to say. At least Blaise doesn't. 

“I have to go back, my friends are there. I just couldn’t let you get hurt,” Ron finally says, and Blaise is surprised. He doesn’t have time to say anything before Ron brushes his lips against his. It’s not really a kiss. “See you around, yeah?” Ron adds, and then he’s out. 

See you around? Who the fuck says that before going back into a fucking riot they sure as hell helped start? 

Blaise can’t sleep. It’s been hours since Ron left him and he can’t sleep. He’s too worried, he feels shaky. He has no way to know if Ron is okay. He has no way to ask for news, because they always bump into each other by accident. He doesn’t know his last name, he doesn’t have his phone number. 

It’s making him crazy. How the fuck could he get involved in something like that again? He’s lying in his bed, thoughts running wild. He could go to the cafe, ask Luna. He could go to the police station, ask if they’re detaining a handsome and stupid redheaded guy. He could go around the city and search every corner. 

He could also stay in bed forever and forget about all of it, but it’s not really an option. He’s caught up in this now. He can’t let go, and he doesn’t even want to anymore. So much for the promise he made to his mom. She’s going to destroy him. 

He rolls around in his bed and puts his pillow over his head. Maybe if he could sleep a little, an hour or two he wouldn’t feel so jittery. He just needs to calm down. Worry is not a good look on him, never has. Blaise used to be so controlled, he had the best poker face of the town. 

Now he’s feeling like an enamored school girl and he hates it. Once he knows for sure Ron is fine, he’ll work on hiding his emotions. He can’t go around wearing his heart on his sleeves. It’s not like him. 

There’s a knock on his door and Blaise freezes. Nobody ever knocks on his door. Maybe it’s the police, they tracked him down and they’re here to take him. His heart starts to race but he smacks himself on the head. There’s no way it’s possible. The cop couldn't see his face, no more than Blaise could see his. 

He wants to ignore it. Maybe it was all in his head, or it was next door. The walls are so thin, it feels like his neighbors live in his apartment sometimes. He waits, but there’s another knock and it’s definitely on his door. 

He gets up, ready to yell at anyone for choosing this day to bother him. He’s been here for months and nobody came to his apartment to talk to him. Why did it have to be today?

He rips the door open, ready to yell to whoever is on the other side, but his words stay in his throat.

It’s Ron. It’s Ron who’s knocking on his door, looking exhausted and dirty. There’s dust on his face, dark circles under his eyes, but he’s still smiling at Blaise. 

“What the fuck?” Blaise can’t help himself saying, and Ron laughs. He laughs at Blaise as if he didn’t leave him a few hours before to go back to whatever the fuck it was, as if he didn’t almost kiss Blaise to let him worry like crazy. Blaise wants to hit him, and he does. He’s done pretending. He hits him on the arm and Ron laughs again.

“Hey, don’t hit me!” he says, still laughing and Blaise crosses his arms on his chest. He’s just realises he’s only wearing his underwear. “I came to ask if you wanted to eat breakfast with me,” Ron asks, a little bit uncertain. As if asking Blaise out is scarier than what he did last night. Than what he does everyday. 

“Eat breakfast?” Blaise repeats, and Ron shrugs with one shoulder.

“Yeah. I’m tired of seeing you by accident. I want to know about you, I want to see you everyday, I want to know everything,” he whispers and Blaise blushes furiously. 

“Okay,” he says instead of all the things he wants to say, and Ron’s eyes light up. Blaise wants to add something smart, but Ron doesn’t let him. He crowds into Blaise’s personal space and cradles his face in his hands. 

“I want to kiss you again,” he murmurs against Blaise’s lips, who just nods. Yeah, he wants that too. 

And he wants to know about Ron, and about his friends, and about his life, about everything. He wants to always know where Ron is, what he’s doing, if he’s safe, what he’s fighting for. He doesn’t say any of it as he kisses Ron back. 

He has time now, to say all of it and more. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the read! I sure enjoyed writing it ! There's more to come soon, I just need to find the time to write it !
> 
> Come say hi on Tumblr imbiasfuckbabes :)


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